Eye For A Tooth (18 page)

“‘Those were my words,’ said Saul. ‘Think for yourself, man. How is a path made? By a man who walks the same way two hundred times. By two men who walk the same way one hundred times. By twenty men who walk the same way ten times. Call in your pickets and make up your twenty men. March them five times to and fro and you have your path.’

“‘It shall be done, Highness.’

“So that was that. Having cut the Gordian knot in very much less than one minute, Saul declared his intention of moving on. Cain wanted to stay and have a look at the lodge; but on learning that, if he did, he would have to walk home, he and Forecast climbed into the
coupé-de-ville
. Saul’s certainly twisting his tail: I’ve never seen a man offered such studied offence.

“Now I should like to have stayed and have used the luminous paint; but I didn’t fancy sharing those woods with twenty foresters; still less did I like the idea of your coming back with the paint, not knowing that they were there: and as I had now been told where to look for the traps, I thought I had better get out while the going was good. And so I withdrew and moved south, proposing, of course, to meet you. George and Carson were early, for George found a painter just coming out of his shop. And I met them at a quarter to two, two miles and a half from here. And then I learned that you had gone back to the lodge.” He sighed. “And so I – retraced my steps. I suppose I have moved faster, but I can’t remember when.”

And not until he said that, did I begin to feel tired. Yet, when we had worked it out, we found that, since we had left the Rolls, I had covered near twenty-five miles and he rather more than nineteen.

At seven o’clock that evening, when we were refreshed, Mansel sent for China and questioned him for two hours.

Much that he said was irrelevant; some, we were sure, was untrue; but he did make some things clear and gave us some information that we were very glad to receive.

Even if I could remember it, to set down all he said would be waste of time; and so I shall only record such parts of his cross-examination as we found valuable.

“You came out of the hostel?” said Mansel. “The hostel that Forecast runs?”

“I ’appened to be there, sir.”

“At the time you were wanted?”

“Yes, sir.”

“As were Boney and Gulf?”

“Yes, sir.”

“All three of you old lags.”

“Not me, sir. My record’s clean.”

“And Boney and Gulf?”

“I think they ’ad been in trouble once or twice.”

“Is the hostel open to all?”

“I wouldn’t say that, sir. I think you ’as to be known.”

“Who is – eligible for admission?”

China shrugged his shoulders.

“Out-of-works, sir – like me.”

“Out-of-jugs, like Boney,” said Mansel.

“There were one or two.”

“And when somebody wanted something rather – er – exceptional done, he got into touch with Forecast, and Forecast provided the men?”

“Biretta and Cain did that.”

“On many occasions?”

“I know three or four.”

Mansel addressed George and me.

“And this place posed as a charitable institution in the heart of London in the twentieth century. If you want a waiter, you ring up Harrods. If you want a burglar, you ring up Orion. The only wonder is they didn’t advertise.”

He returned to China.

“Now tell me this. Six weeks ago, more or less, Boney and Gulf were sent out to Latchet to bump Major Bowshot off. But they didn’t do it, did they?”

“In course they did,” cried China.

“Then what’s all the trouble about?”

“Well, there ain’t no body – sir. Boney an’ Gulf, they left it out in the road – to give the idea that ’e’d bin knock down by a car. An’ some body-snatcher pinched it.”

“Well, what does that matter,” said Mansel, “so long as they know he’s dead?”

“Ah,” said China, “that’s wot we wanted to know – me an’ Boney an’ Gulf. Before we came out, I mean. We didn’ fancy Latchet. If you iron a bloke out on Barnes Common, you don’t choose Barnes for a picnic for two or three months. So we ’as a showdown with Forecast: an’ after we’d called ’is bluff, ’e spills the beans.

“Wot Boney an’ Gulf ’ad bin tole was that the Dook ’ad gone to Worsteds an’ given them instructions to get Bowshot put away. Bowshot was after the Duchess, so ’e said, an’ ’e didn’ want no scandal, an’ this was the best way out. Well they do the job an’ come ’ome. But Worsteds won’t pay up, because they ‘aven’t ’eard that the body’s bin found. Well, Boney an’ Gulf get sore. ‘Body be —,’ they says. ‘Let the Dook enquire at Latchet. ’E’ll soon see whether Bowshot’s missin’ or not.’ Well, that’s fair enough. But Biretta an’ Cain says no. ‘Missin’s no good,’ they says. ‘The Dook must ’ave proof o’ death: an’ you got to go back an’ get it – an’ get it quick.’ Well, that didn’t make sense: an’ when he sees we’re not playin’, Forecast opens ’is mouth.

“The troof was this. It was Biretta an’ Cain as wanted Bowshot outed – an’ they didn’ know ’ow to do it. An’ then along comes the Dook an’ plays right into their ’ands. They make a song an’ dance fer the look o’ the thing: but in fac’ they’re ’uggin’ themselves, for the Dook’s goin’ to pay them big money fer ’elpin’ them out of a jam. So far, so good. An’ then some body snatcher chucks a spanner into the works… The Dook don’t want no proof; but Biretta an’ Cain
must ’ave it
– an’ ’ave it quick. If they can’t get it, they’re sunk. Wiv proof of Bowshot’s death, they can put over ’is will, an’ no questions asked: but when a —’s missin’, it seems you got to go to the Court: an’ the Court appoints a busy to look after ’is affairs. An’ Worsteds don’ want no busies lookin’ after Bowshot’s affairs. ’Cos why? ’Cos they blown ’is fortune – the dirty dogs.”

“And what of the will?” said Mansel.

“Easy money,” said China. “It mayn’t be wot Bowshot wanted, nor it mayn’t say wot Bowshot said: but ’e won’t be there to say so. Bowshot’s cold. ’E can’t rise up an’ say, ‘I never lef’ five thousan’ quid to the ’Ostel – an’ the rest o’ my worlly goods to Biretta an’ Cain.’”

“Very illuminating,” said Mansel. “They’re a couple of lads, aren’t they – Biretta an’ Cain?”

China described them at some length.

“Listen,” said Mansel. “Forecast told you all this: but how did Forecast know?”

China looked over his shoulder.

Then—

“Biretta’s clerk tole him; but Cain don’ know that we know. Lady confidential clerk. If you like to ’ave a dame in your office, that’s wot you get.”

“ I see. And Forecast?”

“Forecast’s sittin’ pretty. ‘Five thousan’ quid to the ’Ostel.’ An’ if they don’ double that, ’E’s goin’ to contes’ the will.”

“Very nice,” said Mansel. “And where do you come in?”

“You gimme my passport,” said China, “an’ I’ll show ’em where I come in.”

“Tell me this,” said Mansel. “Can Cain speak German at all?”

“Not like wot I can,” said China. “’E tried the landlady, but ’e very soon give it up.”

“I take it he’s worried,” said Mansel.

“I’ll say ’e is. First, you got them papers, an’ ’e don’ feel too good about that. Next, ’e knows any moment Bowshot’s goin’ to be missed. ’E don’ put it like that, o’ course: ’e makes out ’e can’t wait, ’cos every day ’e spends ’ere is costin’ ’im seventy quid. An’ then the Dook treatin’ ’im like somethin’ the cat brought ’ome… ’E’s only got one idea, an’ that is to iron you out. Wiv you ironed out, ’e’s safe. ’E’ll find the corpse the nex’ day. ’E’s keeping Gulf fer that. Goin’ to plant ’im by Latchet any time now… Gawd, the day ’e got here! Did you send that — wire?”

“Maybe,” said Mansel, smiling. “I suppose there was some misunderstanding.”

“You can call it that,” said China. “We was talkin’ differen’ tongues for the first ’alf-hour.”

“Tell me,” said Mansel. “Who is to occupy the hunting-lodge?”

“We was,” said China. “Me an’ Cain an’ Forecast an’ four or five men. An’ work from there – I don’ think.” He closed an eye and laid a hand to his nose. “Now this is worf fifty quid, but I’ll leave it to you. ‘Work from there’ be —. They’re out to draw you there. You know wot I mean – decoy. An’ don’ you do it, sir. If you miss them — man-traps, you’ll foul the electric tape: an’ then, ’avin’ give the alarm, you’ll come to a nempty ’ouse. An’ a woman screamin’ somewhere… But if you go in, you’ll never come out alive.”

There was a little silence.

Then—

“Well, I’m much obliged, China,” said Mansel. “You’ll have your passport tomorrow and leave for England at noon. You’ll have ten quid at the station, before you go; and a letter to an agent of mine. Take that letter to him, and he’ll pay you a tenner a week for the next six weeks – provided you keep your mouth shut. If you don’t, the money will stop, and still worse things may befall. I’ve got your finger-prints” – China started – “they’re on that paper there that Carson gave you to read: and the moment you give any trouble, I send them and have them checked at Scotland Yard. And I’ll give you a piece of advice. I should give the hostel a miss. It might be raided one day – you never know.”

“Can’t I touch Biretta and Cain?”

“Not for six weeks. If you do, you lose your dough.”

“But if they put over that will…”

“They won’t,” said Mansel, quietly.

China looked at him very hard.

Then—

“Time I was goin’,” he said. “I’ve lef’ me galoshes at ’ome.”

Early next morning George and Rowley escorted China to Salzburg: and George drew China’s passport and Rowley saw the rogue off by the midday train. Whilst he was at the Bank, in view of what China had said, George drew Gulf’s passport as well: but he lodged that of Cain.

(Here perhaps I should say that in a note to the Bank, Mansel had directed that the papers there lodged for safe custody were to be handed not only to him, but to George or to me on demand: so long, therefore, as one of us three survived, the papers could be conveyed to Scotland Yard.)

Whether Cain ever knew of the action which China had taken, I cannot tell. So far as I know, except by the farmer’s wife, he was not seen with us; and I doubt if he was found to be missing until night fell. By night no search could be made: and soon after dawn the next morning, China was well away. But I think that his disappearance must have troubled both Saul and Cain, for the rogue knew far too much; and I have little doubt that, had he stayed in their service and had they brought us down, they would have taken care that he never saw England again.

Whilst he was in Salzburg, George called at the nursing-home, spent half an hour with the Duchess and brought back with him her answer to Mansel’s note.

I am quite sure that, had John been alive, he would have beggared himself to buy Beehive. I know that his solicitors had standing instructions to let him know if ever they had an inkling that Beehive was to come up for sale. He did not like the lord of the manor and always considered that the latter failed in his duty…

When Mansel had read this, he nodded.

“And so,” he said, “the last fragment of the jig-saw clicks into place.

“If China may be believed – and I think he may – Biretta and Cain have converted John Bowshot’s fortune to their own use. Now, how do defaulting solicitors go to work? Nearly always like this. They choose an easygoing client, who, so long as he gets his income, is only too glad for them to look after his affairs. They then dispose of his capital. But they don’t dispose of it all, for, unless his income is paid, the client will smell a rat. They dispose of, say, two-thirds. And they go on paying the income out of the third that remains. Of course when that third is exhausted, the balloon is bound to go up: but till then the defaulters are safe; and, before it happens, they sail for some destination which is unknown. In fact, there’s only one snag – and that is that the client may say that he wants some capital. Which is, of course, precisely what Bowshot did – or was intending to do.

“One fine day he tells Biretta and Cain that he means to buy Beehive if Beehive is ever for sale. In other words, he warns them that he may require at short notice some thirty or forty or fifty thousand pounds. Well, Beehive isn’t for sale, and they hope for the best. But they damned well keep their ears open, as Bowshot told them to do. And then this summer, the sword of Damocles falls; for it comes to their knowledge that Beehive will be in the market before the autumn is out.

“Well, something’s got to be done, for penal servitude is looming unpleasantly close. No more years of grace for Biretta and Cain. Less than six months, perhaps – unless they can manage to put John Bowshot away. And just as they’re wondering how they can bring this off, Saul walks into their office and asks them to rub him out.

“And there you have the whole thing…

“They consent to do Saul’s bidding – no doubt at a hell of a price. They fake a will. They tell Forecast to have the job done. And the only thing they need is proof of John Bowshot’s death. That is essential, for China’s law is good: and, as China put it, without such proof they are sunk.

“Well, we know that they’re not going to get it; but, now that we know the truth, we may as well quicken things up. And so we’ll send some wires – in John Bowshot’s name. Give me a pad, William. I’ll rough them out.”

The telegrams he there and then drafted shall speak for themselves.

The first we sent that evening, addressing it to the lawyers whom the lord of the manor of Beehive had charged with the sale; for their name had appeared in the advertisement which we had seen in
The Times
.

Messrs Collard Brodie and Thane,

New Square,

Lincoln’s Inn, London

Please let me know the very lowest price which your client is prepared to accept for the Beehive estate

JOHN BOWSHOT

Poste Restante, Villach, Austria.

The reply to this ran as follows:

Major John Bowshot, Poste Restante, Villach, Austria

Very lowest price thirty seven thousand five hundred pounds

COLLARDS

That we received the next morning, when Mansel at once dispatched his second and third.

This was how they ran:

Collards, New Square, Lincolns Inn, London

Very well stop will pay thirty seven thousand five hundred pounds stop please get in touch with my solicitors Worsteds of Jawbone Place stop I am instructing them by telegram to pay you ten per cent of purchase price forthwith and to take all steps necessary to complete sale stop acknowledge to me at Schloss Varvic, by Villach, Austria

JOHN BOWSHOT

Worsteds, Jawbone Place, London

Have arranged to purchase Beehive estate for thirty seven thousand five hundred pounds stop please pay Collards of New Square, Lincolns Inn, ten per cent of purchase price forthwith and sell out sufficient of my securities to pay balance on completion stop take all necessary steps to complete in conjunction with Collards stop writing

JOHN BOWSHOT

To all the consequences of the dispatch of these telegrams, I cannot speak with any certainty: but I think it is fair to assume that the emotions provoked at Varvic by Collards’ reply must have been almost as unpleasant as those already prevailing in Jawbone Place. For Mansel had brought a third party into the ring. And that party was Collards – a firm of the highest repute, who would be very pleased to have sold the Beehive estate by private treaty and so to have saved their client the expense of a sale by auction which might have been held in vain.

Be that as it may, it was clear that the blow would fall upon Biretta in Jawbone Place at least some three or four hours before it fell upon Cain: for Cain would know nothing until Collards’ reply reached Varvic. And it seemed much more than likely that Biretta, so stricken, would instantly wire to Cain. It was less likely, but still quite possible, that Biretta was not yet aware that Cain had left Latchet for Varvic three days before; in which case he would wire to Latchet…

In fact, that was just what he did: and we picked the wire up, in Cain’s name, at four o’clock.

This is how it ran:

Cain, The Inn, Latchet, by Villach, Austria

Beg that you will return immediately stop things passing rapidly beyond my control stop report rendered by Forecast’s people manifestly untrue stop our client is in touch with Collards and has agreed to purchase Beehive estate

BIRETTA

To this frantic communication, Mansel replied at once, and Bell sent the wire from Latchet before that post office closed.

Biretta, Worsteds, Jawbone Place, London

Your wire received stop everything satisfactorily arranged stop write Collards confirming agreement to purchase and leave for Latchet at once stop we can return together at end of this week

CAIN

“And there you are,” said Mansel. “It may or may not come off. It certainly won’t come off if Biretta is in his right mind. But I don’t think he is. I think he’s beside himself. And so he may do as he’s told. And that will mean fun and games, for we can be at Latchet when he arrives.”

It was upon Monday morning that George had driven to Salzburg and it was upon Tuesday evening that Mansel had wired to Biretta, bidding him leave for Latchet without delay; but during these two days we had not wasted our time. With the help of the large-scale map we had reconnoitred the country which neighboured the hunting-lodge: this, with infinite care and three at a time: in this way each one of us six had been able to make two full reconnaissances, each four or five hours long: and I am ready to swear that, when night fell on Tuesday no man in Saul’s service could have found his way in that region as well as could we. But we had not been out by night. And so on Tuesday night Mansel and George and I went out again to study that slice of country under the stars.

Perhaps because we were so well accustomed to moving by night, we found the exercise simple and made our way to and fro wherever we pleased: and so, at the end of two hours, we left the woods and meadows and took to the road. This, because for two days we had not gone near the drive which led to the lodge, and we felt that, if we could approach it, we might learn something that we should be glad to know.

Here perhaps I should say that, so far as we knew, the enemy was not aware that we knew of the lodge’s existence; for this he can hardly be blamed, for, had I not seen Forecast’s map some ten days before, we should not have known of the place, and though we might have remarked the mouth of the drive, this differed very little from scores of tracks we had noticed but had not explored.

We struck the road a mile south of the hunting-lodge; and we moved in absolute silence, in single file, “for don’t forget,” said Mansel, “that the foresters may be out, and their eyes and their ears are trained to catch the slightest movement of man or beast.”

The road was by no means straight, and we had to round several bends before coming to the mouth of the drive. The last of these lay very close to the mouth, and as Mansel began to round it, I saw him stop. For a moment or two he stood still: then he returned and came back.

“There’s a light ahead,” he breathed. “It isn’t moving, and I don’t yet know where it is; but I don’t think it’s right in the mouth. And now let’s go on. We’ll walk in the middle of the road. I shall watch our front and our right; George will watch our left and William our left and our rear.”

This made very good sense, for the drive lay to our right; if, therefore, there was an ambush, it would probably be to our left. But, since I did as he said, I did not see for myself all that I am about to relate. But Mansel told me later.

We moved forward very slowly, about four paces apart, until Mansel was very close to the mouth of the drive. There he stood very still for five minutes or more. Then we heard a man clear his throat. The sound came from the mouth of the drive, and at once Mansel turned to the opposite side of the road. There he lay down by the ditch, and we did the same. And then he began to move forward, until he could look up the drive.

The light he had seen was burning a little way up the drive, directly beyond a slight bend. The impression it gave was this – that some car, with its headlights dipped, was about to round the bend on its way towards the mouth of the drive, and, had we gone by in a car, instead of on foot, we must have observed the light and have so interpreted it. But in fact the light was not moving. More. When you studied the beam, you saw it was limited. It shone upon the roadway, but nowhere else: and so, to avoid it was easy; for a man could walk up the drive and then step into the woods, move on past the beam and then back to the drive. At least, it seemed that he could…

Many men know the value of waiting: but few, I think, are prepared to use that knowledge as Mansel always did. His patience was infinite – and was almost invariably rewarded as it deserved. On this occasion he knew that the man who had cleared his throat would eventually go away or would be relieved; to observe such a movement, he was ready to wait all night, because he desired to see how the man behaved as he went – whether he stuck to the drive or entered the woods.

For over an hour and a quarter we lay beside that ditch, always ready, at the sound of some car, to slip down out of sight; but in all that time nothing happened, except that now and again the sentinel cleared his throat.

And then at last a figure, moving towards us, whipped into and out of the beam a little way up the drive.

Now whoever it was did not proceed at once to the mouth of the drive. Though, of course, we could not see him, I think he was probably listening for any sound of a car. If I am right, I suppose he was satisfied, for after three or four minutes, he used his torch. He used his torch to examine the sides of the drive; and the light of his torch showed us that each of the sides was wired. They were wired waist-high with barbed wire; of this there were three strands, and all of the strands were strained. A man could step over them, but only by holding them down; he could pass between or below them, but only by holding them up.

The man did not touch the wire, but only examined it: then he came on down the drive and spoke to the sentinel. He spoke in German, of course: but while I could hear his words, Mansel understood what they meant.

“Has a car been by?”

“No, sir.”

“Anyone on foot?”

“No, sir.”

The torch was lighted.

“Look at your watch and tell me what time it says.”

“Ten minutes to one, sir.”

The torch was put out.

“Well, listen. You will now return to the lodge and report to Hans. You will tell him that at five minutes past one, according to your watch, I am going to test the wires by the side of the drive. If all is in order, the signal light should go out. He will not rouse the others, because he will know it is me: but he will at once send Kleiner to restore the connection which I shall have broken in two. If the signal light does not go out at five or six minutes past, then Kleiner and Boll will come out to find and repair the fault. And now repeat those instructions.”

The sentinel did so.

“Off with you then, and be back at half-past two. And don’t loiter about in that beam.”

“Very good, sir.”

With that, the fellow withdrew, and after a moment or two, passed into and out of the beam. And such is the way of the world that, as soon as his subordinate was out of the way, the other took out matches and lighted a cigarette.